Valentine.

Darling, Look Away.

I awaken with a jolt and bring myself up to a sitting position in the slim, medical bed. Peering around at the darkness trying to decipher my surroundings, I realize I've made it to the infirmary.

Resting on the table to my right, are an assortment of various medical herbs and bandages accompanied by a carafe of water.

As I continue my surveil of the room, I make out the faint outline of a door right across from the bed. One glance at the heavily chained hinges accompanied by another huge padlock quickly confirms that it does indeed lead to Hades' office.

Just my luck that there was another entryway directly connected to the infirmary. Despite this being to my temporary relief, the observation leaves me slightly unsettled, nonetheless. I may not have been able to find anything tangible in the gardens but maybe the answers I needed lay just beyond that door. Reaching down the front of my dress, I let out a sigh of relief to find that I was still in possession of the stemmed-rose.

Time was ticking.

Gathering my wits, I make quick work of hoisting myself off the bed and head for the padlock. My body is still very sore, and I feel a light tingly sensation in the pit of my stomach from poisoning myself earlier, so I was currently treading on thin ice.

Though it's only a few feet, it feels like a trek. When I finally stand in front of the iron door, I run my fingers over its cool metal hinges. Shutting my eyes for a moment, I let out a deep breath. This has to work. I had no other options, and I'd already risked so much...too much.

I offer up more silent prayers to the heavens before grabbing the padlock in one hand and sticking the stem of the stiff rose, into the lock.

I move and jerk its thorned stalk desperately around, waiting, yearning for the gut-wrenching sound of a click. I've never actually encountered the need to pick a lock before, in all of my life and the longer I stood here fiddling with the latch, the more my inexperience was showing, chipping away at any hope and leaving in its stead, growing defeat and despair.

Minutes go by, and I am seconds away from giving up when luck graces me with its presence once more today, and behold, the padlock finally surrenders to my skittish, amateur tampering. With a loud rattle, the chains slide down to the ground. Already sensing myself on borrowed time, I don't hesitate to wrench open the heavy door and push my way in.

I am greeted by a dark room illuminated only by a faint glowing red light. The smell of old leather and dust wafts through the air as mounds upon mounds of books and journals litter the floor. Tall bookcases lined with even more books practically decorate the entirety of the left wall. 

To my right, cases and jars filled with various herbs, liquids, and stones rest atop of wooden shelves carefully protruding from the walls. Of all the potpourri of items before me though, what catches my attention in particular, is the tiny tiara resting atop one of the tables, carved of marble, in the middle of the room. Inexplicable chills run their way down my spine as I trudge over to the shinnied crown for a better look.

There is a single amethyst gem encrusted into the point of the jewelry. I pick it up and run my fingers over the smooth, precious stone and immediately, I feel it again. That puzzling feeling of familiarity. Reaching for my head, I pry off the dark circlet resting above my brows and bring both headpieces side by side. They held the exact same size and dimensions. But there was no mistaking the stark contrast in colors and styles. One was innocent, inviting, and looked as if it were carved from the sky while the other...it's smooth surface so dark it seemingly swallowed and consumed the night surrounding it.

My heartbeat quickens as I drop both crowns, my shaky hands betraying the confusion and fear that was now currently coursing through my veins. My attention is then pulled to the soiled gown folded on the table, not far from where the circlet rested moments ago. I can already tell its mine before even having to check the size. I pick up the garment and examine it anyway. Tears and crinkles litter the teal fabric, with faint splatters of blood dotting the neckline.

My brain tries helplessly and fails to come up with a solid explanation. There are too many questions circling my mind, all dancing around the very truth that I just refuse to acknowledge, for fear it would crumble my reality. I fight the urge to puke for the 10th time today and steel my nerves. The room is beginning to feel smaller and smaller; I needed to get out of here...now. Trembling fingers, I quickly grab the teal tiara and stow it away into my dress. Before I can exit the study, however, a small, battered scroll resting on the table catches my attention. Its browned edges lend it an air of anciency.

I take care to gently unravel the delicate piece of paper. In its unveiled form, it resembles more like a page torn out of a longer collection. A book of some sort. At first glance, the scripture appears to be in some weird language I don't ever recall learning. I allow my eyes to dwell over the symbols anyways. More chills cascade down my spine as I realize halfway through skimming the writing, that my brain has made perfect sense of everything I have read so far.

When I reach the bottom of the scroll, it feels as if my feet were snatched from beneath me. My life as I know it, is completely toppled upside down by its contents. It is, unmistakably, a prophecy, complete with the signage of the oracle of Delphi. Hysteria and panic douse me as I force myself to reread the ancient text...over and over again.